Sam's Secret
by Biensche
Summary: Sam is hurt bad in more way than one after a party going back to their motel. He decides to not tell Dean about it. Please heed the warnings inside!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do not own "Supernatural".**

 **I wrote this story in just a few hours and I actually never thought I would write something like this ever let alone post it. Should you find any mistakes, they are all mine.  
**

 **Please be warned that it is about sexual abuse. However, it is nothing too graphic. Please do not read if this triggers, hurts or offends you in any way. I do not intend to do so.**

 **If you decide to read on, I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

Sam's secret

"Dean, I think, I wanna go home."

"Already?" Dean stared at his younger brother with unbelieving eyes. The party they were at was awesome. Lots of people. Lots of girls. Most of them even hot. And the drinks were good. The music was nice. Dean surely enjoyed himself and was pretty certain he could and probably _would_ get laid tonight.

And Sam wanted to go. Great!

"Yeah, I've had enough."

"Mad if I still stay?"

"No, no. 'Course not. But take a cab, 'kay? You're drunk."

"'m not."

"Please?" Sam's puppy-eyed-look made Dean agree.

"Alright. Alright." Dean gave in to his little brother's pleas.

"Thank you. See ya later then. We can get the car in the morning. I've had too much to drink myself."

Dean scrutinized his brother. Sam did not seem very drunk. He probably had a few beers. Enough for him to decide not to drive anywhere anymore. Maybe not too bad an idea. Dean would be mad as hell if there was so much as a small dent or scratch in his lovely Chevy Impala.

Dean watched his taller but younger brother leave, shaking his head. How could they be brothers? In things like these they were so damn different. But he would enjoy himself tonight.

* * *

Sam walked down the streets. It was somewhere close to 1.30 a.m. He probably was not too drunk to drive Dean's baby back to the motel but he needed some fresh air and the two-mile-walk would do him good. A slight headache pounded at his temples.

He drew a deep breath while walking through the chilly February night. The party was at the outskirts of town and he enjoyed the silence of the night and the incredible view to the sky. He could even see the Milky Way. He smiled at the beauty as he felt as if he was five years old again and he had seen it for the first time.

Something made the hair on the back of his neck rise. In a curve of the street he turned his head to see some guys behind him. He fastened his steps. The loneliness he had just savored so much now made him uncomfortable.

He got closer to the middle of the town. Still he heard the giggling of the group behind him. They had gotten closer. How was that possible? He had walked faster and he had not realized that they had picked up their pace, too.

Dad would kick his ass for being so careless. "Use your abilities as a hunter!" His father's voice echoed through his mind.

Sam switched to the opposite side of the road just to see if this group was following. It was not. The men stayed on their side. They even walked down another road. Sam sighed in relief but still kept his pace.

"Hey big boy."

What? Again these men had been able to get around his hunting skills.

"Wanna give me a blow job?"

The rest of the group burst out laughing. Sam just kept on walking not turning around. He decided to ignore them. Maybe then they would lose their interest in him.

"Hey! I'm talking to you, big boy!" The men caught up with Sam and walked at his side.

"No", answered Sam in a firm voice. He kept his eyes trained in front of him. An unsettling feeling settled in his gut and slowly crept around his body. A lump formed in his throat and he had trouble swallowing around it.

"Would be fun." The man mocked.

Again laughter filled Sam's surroundings.

"No, I don't wanna."

"But I do." The man said harshly and stepped in front of Sam who stopped to avoid running into him. A cold chill coursed through Sam's body and he was sure it was not from the cold night.

Suddenly Sam found himself pushed against a wall in the alley they had just been walking. Three man holding him in place while the fourth approached him.

"Oh big boy, you could have had it so easy. But now, I don't know if you deserve to have it easy."

Sam felt as if he could not suck in enough air to fill his lungs with the much needed oxygen. The men holding him were stronger than he thought and they held him pinned tightly against the bricks behind him. His eyes wildly darted around in search for rescue. His throat tightened so he was unable to scream. His horror became more and more evident. There was no escape. He struggled to get free but the men just held tighter.

"I was just asking kindly for a blow job. All you would have had to do is give it to me. Now, I think we need more than that."

The man's voice and words were horrible, evil, cruel. His actions even more.

At some time Sam's mind shut down. It was as if his mind and body were separated from each other.

* * *

Dean quietly opened the door to the motel room so to not wake his brother who was probably fast asleep in his bed. His gaze fell on Sam's bed. His assumption had been right. Sam lay sprawled face down on it, soft, deep murmuring rolling from mouth.

"Party pooper." Dean snickered drunkenly. "Shh, shh, shh. Sammy's asleep." He chided himself in a low sozzled voice. He closed the door behind him, shrugged off his jacket and his boots and fell into his bed not caring to take care of anything else before getting into bed. He was too content with the way his evening had turned. A hot petite brunette and he had an awesome time. Smiling he drifted into sleep.

At some time Dean woke with a start. Even though he did not know what had awoken him his drunken mind sobered within seconds. He looked at his mobile phone to see it was 5.47 a.m.

"What the..." he muttered trailing off looking around. His gaze fell on Sam's bed.

It was empty.

"Sam?" Dean called out concerned. He had been in bed when he came back to the motel, hadn't he? When had Sam gotten up? Why had Sam gotten up?

And most important: Where was Sam?

Dean got up to turn on the lights. Once he had the lights turned on he looked around calling out for his brother. He knocked on the bathroom door before he opened. "Sammy? You in there?" There was no one inside.

Worry spread inside Dean. His baby brother was missing. No! Not on his watch!

His breathing quickened. He quickly slipped into his boots, grabbed his jacket and stormed out the motel room door.

Where he knocked into Sam.

"Sam!" He shrieked.

"Dean", answered Sam flatly.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Walking." Again that flat tone to Sam's statement but Dean did not pick it up. He was too deep in his anger and worry mode.

"What? It's 6 in the morning." Dean scolded his little brother. It was his way of showing his concern.

"Yeah. I needed to clear my head." Sam held up a bag. "And I got breakfast." He pushed past Dean into the motel room. He left the take-out bag on the table. Carelessly he threw his jacket to a chair. It slid off. He did not bother to pick it up. He took off his sneakers and let them fall on the floor next to his bed. Then he flopped down on it not caring to take his other clothes off or changing into something more comfortable. He turned his head away from Dean facing the wall.

Dean stared open-mouthed at his brother. This was so not his brother. Sam never was so careless with his stuff. Sam always called Dean on him being reckless leaving his clothes and things strewn around. "Sam, Sammy? You alright?"

"Yeah, just tired. Headache."

The older brother moved towards the bed on which Sam lay on his stomach still facing away from Dean. Dean sat down on the edge.

Sam felt the movement of his brother coming over to the bed and the dip in the mattress. He restrained himself from recoiling. He knew it was _his brother_ sitting there. But he still felt so raw, so exposed, so humiliated.

God, why did he come back here so soon after leaving? He should have stayed out to get himself under control again before facing Dean. His brother knew him to well and would see straight through him.

Nononono. Not happening! Nobody could know about that. He would never ever talk about this... this _incident_. Least of all Dean!

Sam fought for control of his breathing knowing full well that once Dean picked up on his distress he would not be left of the hook until he came up with an explanation. And right now he did not have one except for the truth. And he would not... Sam slowly closed his eyes to keep himself from the cruel world behind his closed lids. The world inside was not better. But there at least was no Dean who fired questions at him, made him feel guilty, ashamed and worthless - even more than he already felt.

Dean looked down at his brother. He put a hand on the other side of Sam's body to bend over his back to get a look at his face. He looked just in time to see Sam close his eyes. Dean was sure he caught a glimpse of despair.

Was he in so much pain? It was as if Sam had had a vision or was caught right in the middle of it.

Sam tensed when he felt Dean leaning over him. "It's Dean, it's Dean, it's Dean", he told himself in his mind over and over again.

Eventually, Sam's breathing evened out and Dean leaned back rubbing his hand over Sam's back. Sam could not help himself but flinch at the touch and Dean immediately pulled his hand back.

"Sammy, is it really just a headache?" he asked.

"Yeah. I think I just need some time to sleep it off", answered Sam in a gentle and small voice.

"Did you have a vision? Or is it some sort of precursor of that or something?" worried Dean.

Sam almost sighed in relief. Why hadn't he come up with that? Perfect excuse! "Dunno. Yeah, probably a vision coming up."

"Want some painkillers to ease the aches?"

Under normal circumstances Sam would have appreciated Dean's concern but right now his hovering and closeness was too much for the younger man's tortured body and soul. He knew he would not get any sleep but maybe some rest. Rest that he needed to get his act together. That was all he wanted.

"Yeah, might be a good idea." Sam just answered to get rid of Dean although it would only be for just some moments. His big brother was so close Sam felt his body heat radiating off him. Too close for his liking. Sam was not even sure if there were any pain killers or enough pain killers in the world that could numb him sufficiently.

Dean rubbed one hand over his face before he got the pills and some water for Sam. When he had retrieved both he handed them to Sam who just rolled on the bed enough to swallow the medication and fluid down. Then he fell back down on the bed into the same position as before unmoving.

"So, I'm eating alone, huh?"

"If ya don't wanna wait for another few hours...", Sam slurred feeling the medication kick in. Sam tried to fight it afraid of what happened when he fell asleep. But mental exhaustion finally claimed him and he dozed off.

Dean watched his baby brother lose the battle against the fatigue. The pain lines in his face smoothing a little but not completely. But Dean was grateful for every little bit of release of hurt his brother might get.

"God, I hate these visions!" he fretted lowly and decided he would only drink the coffee before it got cold. He would wait with the breakfast until Sam woke.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading. Did you like it? Good? Bad?  
**

 **Please leave a review if you like. I really appreciate them.**

 **And it's a way to know if you liked it or not and for me to improve. :-) Thank you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I do not own "Supernatural".**

 **Thank you for the reviews, follows, favorites. They make me a happy writer. :-)**

 **All mistakes are mine.**

 **All places and incidents are made up. I don't know if there is a Richmond in Minnesota. So, if there is, it's simply a coincidence.**

* * *

Slowly Sam came to. During his sleep he had curled up on his side now facing Dean, his back was turned to the wall the bed stood against. Somehow it made Sam feel comfortable laying like this.

But the more alert his mind and body became the more the memories seeped in. He felt his breathing was too quick. His body trembled. And he could not do shit about it.

He closed his eyes again. He did not want to draw Dean's attention on him. He tried everything in his might to get himself under control again.

Dean took some sips of the hot dark coffee. It slid down his esophagus and spread in his gut. He cherished that feeling when he saw Sam stirring on the bed. It only had been like twenty minutes since his little brother had succumbed to sleep. Was he already waking up? No, the pain killers should pull him under for longer than that.

Dean walked over to his younger sibling happy he was now looking in his direction. Otherwise Dean would have had to do more gymnastic exercises to lean over his brother to get a look at him.

Gently the older hunter smoothed some of Sam's bangs from his forehead which immediately crinkled. Sam moaned very low and pulled his head away from Dean's loving hand.

"Wow, that headache must be more violent than I thought", Dean angrily huffed before he went back to his chair at the table. There he riffled through some local newspapers which had been left by some guest and browsed through the pages all the while keeping a close eye on Sam.

When Sam felt Dean's hands on his hair and his skin the young man had a hard time controlling himself. It was almost impossible to stay still and he felt a quiet moan escaping and he flinched slightly. Both were completely unintentional.

He tried his very best to keep up his act. He was more than aware of Dean's observation on him and he did not intent to spike his older brother's interest. Let him believe in that damn headache. Wasn't that much of a lie, anyway!

Sam wanted to open his eyes but was afraid that Dean would caught him awake and start some kind of talk that Sam was not ready for. Yet. But he did not want to turn his head towards the dirty white wall either as he was afraid that his mind would stray away to some place he definitely did not want to go to. Ever.

He did not want to keep his eyes shut because he saw the images behind closed lids.

"Pull yourself together", he whispered very low to himself.

"Sammy? You awake? Did you say something?" Dean had heard him anyway. If Sam's eyes had not been closed already, he would have closed them now and sighed. Dean always caught up on him. Damn Dean!

Dean walked over to his brother and watched him very closely. Sam had mumbled incoherently and sighed several times already. But otherwise he had not moved too much.

"Get some rest, Sam. You need it, huh?" Again, Dean walked back to sit down with his coffee and papers.

* * *

It was some hours later that Sam awoke. He had not noticed that he had fallen asleep again. Dean had moved from the table to the bed. The TV was almost muted while he watched some old western.

"What the..? What's that?" Sam asked tiredly but at the same time incredulously. Slowly he sat up, suppressing a wince as his sore behind hit the mattress. He hoped he could keep this conversation up to have Dean diverted from his pain and troubled mind.

"What?" Dean replied.

"That?" Sam pointed towards the TV.

"Called TV. Nice invention."

"You're watching cowboy and Indian films?"

"They only got two stations. And the other one showed commercial for curling up your hair with this thing in an infinite hoop. I don't need that." He smiled and smoothed one hand over his short-cut hair. "But maybe for you? Shall I switch channels?" Dean's smile turned into a sneer.

"Nah, thanks. The ladies love my hair like this." Sam forced a smile and shook his hair.

"The ladies, huh?" Dean said, "Where do you get to know any 'ladies'?"

Then he pushed himself up and stiffly walked over to the bathroom. He felt Dean's heedful eyes on him as he shuffled through the room.

"Still trouble with the head or something?"

"Nuh, just lay in a stupid position", answered Sam before he disappeared into the bathroom. He waited a moment until he was sure that Dean's attention was back on the TV or something else. As quiet as possible he turned the key to lock the door but to keep Dean's interest away. The younger brother did not want to get caught red-handed looking over his hurting body and private parts. Dean did not need to know about any of this. Ever!

Sam was just happy that he was able to pretend in front of Dean that all that hurt was his damn head and that he had slept in an uncomfortable position.

He grabbed the painkillers from the med-kit. He poured some pills into his palm - not really caring how many - and washed them down with some water from the faucet.

When he lifted his head, he almost shrieked at the reflection in the mirror. If he had not known better he looked like something that Dean and he would hunt down. He had an ashen tone to his skin, his hair just hung down lifelessly, his eyes looked haunted, bloodshot and swollen. He had dark rings underneath them. His body ached and was numb at the same time and he hoped for the medication to kick in soon. Even though he knew all too well that it would not help the pain in his mind. His mind would just keep on twisting, turning, running all events over and over and over again.

When some holler echoed through the motel room Sam violently flinched. He knew it was Dean probably being impatiently waiting on him. But the young Winchester could not help the shaking and trembling in his body. He grabbed the sink to steady himself. He drew in deep breaths, consciously controlling his breathing.

Finally the young man had himself under some sort of control again and he opened the med-kit and laid out its contents next to the sink. Then he pushed down his pants. Carefully he lowered himself on the toilet seat and gently probed himself.

It hurt. More than any pain he had ever felt in his life. More than all pains he had ever experienced in his life combined. But at least his fingers came away only slightly stained crimson red.

Not like the night before. Remembering those moments in the bathroom his breath caught in his throat as well as a big lump. He had come back to the room, his pants and boxers red with blood. He had taken them off, tried to stop the blood still flowing from some wounds he had sustained during... this incident. That had taken some time. Time Sam had been afraid of Dean walking in on him finding him like this. He had put on some other boxers and pants. The old ruined clothes together with all the gauze used to get the blood flow under control he had stuffed into a plastic bag and buried them deep down in his duffel bag. Not that he intended to keep them but he wanted to destroy them completely by burning them. But he could not have done that here and then as Dean might have come back any minute. He would need some time to himself to do that. Without Dean around or about to come back.

He grabbed some gauze to press against the wound. Tears welled up in his eyes as the pain threatened to overwhelm him.

"Oh God, it hurts", he sobbed quietly.

Gradually the pain meds got the job down and got the aches in Sam's body under control. At least it was a bearable level of pain now.

If they could only help his rotating thoughts, his troubled mind.

"Pull yourself together, Sammy!" Sam mumbled angrily through clenched teeth. "Nothing happened. Everything's fine. Nothing to worry 'bout!"

Sam decided a shower might help him to get his mind and body under control and working properly again.

* * *

Dean watched his little brother as he retreated into the bathroom of their motel room. He frowned at Sam's limp and stiffness. He looked like death warmed over. Some spirit would be scared to hell by the look of Sam.

"These damn vision things are just getting worse!" he hissed furiously. If he just could take that away from Sam... He would give everything and anything. He hated to see his baby brother in pain.

When the door to the other room closed behind Sam, Dean got up and took out the food Sam had brought with him. Maybe some food would do him good.

"It'll do _me_ good", grinned Dean as he looked into the takeaway bags. His mouth watered at the sight. "Yummy!" Sam just knew what he liked. He definitely raised that kid right.

"Hurry up Sam!" hollered Dean in a good mood. "I'm hungry."

After a few minutes he heard the spray of water in the shower and his face fell. "Oh great, now that boy is takin' a shower. Awesome! With that hair of his it will take like hours before I can eat! And I m starving..." he whined.

For a moment Dean considered his options. Wait for Sammy, watch TV, eat? Then he decided to sit down at the table, keep on watching that western and eat some of the stuff Sam had brought. Just to calm his rumbling-mumbling stomach. And when Sam was done with his beauty program they could eat together.

Content with himself, Dean nodded.

* * *

Sam wanted to open the bathroom door but the door did not give way. Scared and angry he turned the knob again and again. He felt panic creeping up his spine. What was wrong with the damn door?

At the rattling sound of the door Dean's head snapped up and he stared at the bathroom door in astonishment. Had Sam locked the door? _Why_ had Sam locked the door?

He was about to get up when the door unlocked and Sam stepped out of the steaming bathroom. He was completely dressed. His hair still wet, but he looked much better than before. His skin was still a little pale but not translucent, the dark rings under his eyes had almost disappeared. Sam still looked a little worn out but otherwise refreshed.

Sam needed to get the conversation going into a direction he decided for. Otherwise, Dean would ask about the door. If he was faster then he might stand a chance that Dean did not questioned him about it.

"Dude, what are you eating?"

Dean grinned broadly. "I'm eating the breakfast you brought." He chewed some more, then he continued, "Well, it's rather lunch or somethin' but still the stuff you left on the table before fallin' asleep."

"Got something left for me?" Sam asked.

"Sure, here." Dean pointed to the food on the table which had been reduced considerably.

"That's it?"

"Uh, yeah. For now. I was hungry." Dean supplied at Sam's look of reproach.

"Dude. That was more than enough to feed like 20 Navy seals."

"I'm as good as 20 Navy seals. So I gotta eat like 20 Navy seals." Dean smirked at Sam who still could not believe his ears nor eyes.

"Your eating habits are. That's true." Sam sat down in a chair trying to hide his discomfort his behind still gave him despite the treatment he had administered in the bathroom.

As happy as he could pretend to be he stuffed some food into his mouth. He was surprised his stomach did not send it all back up.

Sometime during their chewing and munching Dean's cell phone rang.

"Yeah?", he answered with his mouth still full.

 _"Hey Dean, it's Bobby."_

"Bobby, hey. Good to hear from you."

Sam looked at Dean and tried to figure out from the one-sided conversation that he heard what was going on.

 _"Yeah, good to hear ya, too. Where are you boys?"_

"We're in Indiana. Why? What's goin on?"

 _"I need you boys."_

"You in trouble?" Dean asked concerned. Sam looked up.

 _"No, no. Not me. But I got a hint for a hunt in Minnesota. And I can't go myself."_

"Alright. What is it about?"

 _"It's just some rumor."_

Dean rolled his eyes and huffed.

"Don't you roll your eyes on me, boy!" Bobby growled.

Dean looked incredulously. How could Bobby know that he had just done that? Then he sighed. Bobby was Bobby and he just knew. He should have gotten used to that by now.

 _"You done with that crap of yours? Can we get down to business again?"_ Bobby's tone got impatient.

"Yes sir!" Dean answered and saluted even though Bobby could not see it. But Dean was not sure if Bobby did not know his actions anyway.

 _"Oh boy, what am I gonna do with ya?"_ Bobby sighed knowing full well that Dean had just mock-saluted. Then the older hunter continued, _"Rumors say that in Richmond a ghost haunts the old school. They built a new school a few years ago because the old one got too small. They only used some rooms in the old one like the gym and the auditorium and rooms like that. Lately, there were some strange accidents. Nothing fatal but still."_

"What means 'strange'?"

 _"During rehearsals for a play the lights started flickering, some bulbs burst, some girl fell of the stage without any reason. She said she felt pushed. Gladly, only sprained her ankle. Some boy was hit by a falling spotlight. He was knocked unconscious but he also got lucky and only had a mild concussion. Stuff like that."_

"Any idea who our lovely-student-kicking-spirit is?"

 _"Yes. The janitor died in the old school when he cleaned it up."_

"How?"

 _"Heart attack. Wasn't found until five days later."_

"Ouch!" Dean hissed. "Five days would make me angry too."

 _"Oh yeah_ ", Bobby agreed, _"Well, they didn't use the old buildings very often anymore."_

"Still, it ' five days. We're takin care of this, Bobby."

 _"I'll send you the coordinates. And the information where to find his grave."_

"Thanks Bobby." Dean ended the call and turned to Sam who had stood up during Dean's talk with Bobby and had started getting their stuff together. The younger Winchester brother had a faint idea of what was going on but he was sure Dean would fill him in completely about their new job as soon as possible. Maybe that was not such a bad idea anyway as a hunt might take his mind of... this incident. And he might just forget about it.

"Pack up Sammy. We're going to Minnesota!"

* * *

Once they had loaded their bags into the Impala Dean slid behind the wheel waiting for Sam to get into the passenger seat. The older brother observed his little brother closely. He still moved gingerly, Dean noticed. And the careful way Sam seated himself into the car made Dean look his brother over.

"What?" Sam asked unnerved trying to hide his discomfort as much as possible.

"You really okay?"

Sam's mind started spinning. Dean never, never ever asked this frankly. He was more subtle. He cracked jokes which hid his concern. When Dean spoke like this, Sam was failing in his act of normal. "Oh God, no! That just couldn t be! Find some wisecrack answer!" Sam told his despairing mind.  
"Yeah", answered Sam and thought to himself, "Great wisecrack!"

"Okay." Dean started his car. "Up to Minnesota! The Land of 1,000 Lakes."

"10,000."

"Huh?" Dean looked surprised from the road ahead at his brother.  
It s 10,000 Lakes , answered Sam somehow happy that he could supply that and hopefully could distract Dean's worry over him.

"Yeah, whatever, inch pincher. 1,000 or 10,000? What difference does it make? A lot of damn lakes, right?"

"It makes a difference of 9,000."

"Oh, so you're great with numbers, too, huh? Mister-Know-It-Better", Dean bantered good-naturedly, "You know what? Nobody likes smartasses!"

"At least I really know better", Sam sneered.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read and maybe comment. :-)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you for your reviews, follows and everything. They really, really mean a lot to me.**

* * *

During the drive, Dean darted glances at his little brother every now and then. He tried to be as discreet as possible to scrutinize him. Something felt off. Dean just could not figure out what yet.

Sam had said nothing about the Impala being at the motel. Although he had begged Dean to leave the car behind because of his drunkenness and Dean had given in into that. Sam did fight with him there. Not even some bantering. Nothing. That was so not like his baby brother.

And then there was the locked bathroom door. Sam had tried to hide the fact that he was freaked out but Dean had picked up on it anyway. Was that really just some headaches?

Dean decided it was time to watch Sam even more closely than he already did. He knew Sam would shut him out even more if he pushed him into talking. He would just get some bitchy comments if at all.

Sam felt his older brother's eyes on him. He was terrified that Dean would be able to see straight through him like he always had. Dean had always been able to read Sam like an open book. From their childhood years, through their teenage and high school times. And even now, after being separated for some time as Sam had left to go to Stanford and they only recently had found their brotherly relationship again, Dean seemed to be able to read Sam's mind. It was something the brothers had in common.

Actually - and under normal circumstances - Sam was happy about this trait in his brother. It had helped them both more than once that they understood each other without talking, without looking - just like that.

But right now, it were not normal circumstances and Sam hated it. He did not need Dean's concern. He did not _want_ Dean's concern. He had too much too handle himself right now that he could not take that as well. He wanted it all to be over, as if nothing ever happened. Everything was just fine as long as he told himself so, Sam hoped.

"Uh...", Sam started. He hated the silence in the car. It just gave his thoughts and mind the possibility to roam about. Something he wanted and needed to avoid. His mind pulled blank searching for a topic.

Dean turned his head towards his brother. "What?" He asked curiously.

"What's this about then?" Sam could not think of anything else to ask.

"What?" Dean who had looked at the street again now stared open-mouthed at his brother who looked like a little boy caught with his hands in the cookie jar. "Didn't you listen?"

Sam's face fell. "Huh?"

"Dude, I already told you 'bout it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, like 20 miles back. You got holes in your head or something?"

Sam tried to hide his panting. His mind reeled. "This can't be happening! Nonono! No way! God, help me outta this! Now Dean really knows something's up! Help!" His thoughts tumbled.

"Sam? Sammy?" Dean looked back and forth between the road and his brother whose breathing became harsher and harsher. Sam did not react to Dean's calling his name.

"Oh oh."

Immediately, the older brother pulled the car over into the gravel and killed the engine while at the same time he laid a hand on Sam's shoulder. His sibling's body trembled underneath and his eyes darted crazily around.

"Sammy? Holy crap! What's going on? Focus on me! Come on!" Dean snapped his fingers in front of Sam. When he got no reaction, Dean palmed Sam's face and forced his little brother's head into his direction to look at him. "Hey! Snap out of it!"

Sam did not respond. Dean sighed in desperation.

* * *

A sharp sting to his cheek pulled Sam from his inward terrors and he stared into the worried eyes of his older brother. Ever so slowly the young Winchester brought a shaking hand up to his face to tenderly rub against the pain. Questioningly and utterly lost he looked for his brother's support and comfort.

"Sorry Sammy. I didn't know how else to get you back to reality." With an apologizing look Dean held up his right hand he had slapped Sam's cheek with to let it drop back to the seat.  
"Ouch", said Sam and then whispered, "Thanks."

"Soooo?" Dean stretched to make his brother talk.

"So what?"

"What was that?" Dean looked irritated at his sibling.

"Maybe some vision or so?" Sam suggested helplessly. "Dunno."

"A lot of vision-thingies lately, huh?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders. How could he tell his brother what really was going on?

"But they never really come, do they? Just those symptoms, right?"

"Uh, no. No. Nothing. Just these feelings and headaches and-"

"Loss of reality", interrupted Dean grinning.

"Funny."

Even though Sam and he himself played it all down, Dean's worry did not lessen one bit. To the contrary. But for Sam's sake he would keep it to himself. For now.

After a quick look Dean was certain that Sam was as good as could be expected after this. Sam sat slouched down in the passenger seat. His head leaned against the window and the back of the seat, he had his eyes screwed shut, his right hand lay across his face.

Dean bit down hard. He knew how tough these symptoms and visions were on his brother.

Soon the brothers were on the road again.

* * *

"Hey, pull over", Sam said suddenly.

"Why?"

"We ran outta painkillers and there's a drugstore."

"When did we run outta painkillers?" Dean asked confused but stopped the car.

"'cause we used 'em up!?" Sam said irritated.

"No need to get moody, Florence Nightingale." Dean watched his brother get out of the car and walk over to the store. Sighing he shook his head and turned up the volume of the radio to pass the time.

A few minutes later Sam slid back into the passenger seat with a small paper bag. He fished in it and took out some pills to shove them into his mouth.

"Whoa!" Dean stared at him. "Whatcha need 'em for?"

"Uh, for my pain-in-the-ass-brother who's getting on my nerves", answered Sam and dry-swallowed the medication.

"Sam, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, man. I'm just damn tired. I'm having constant headaches and a pesky brother!"

"Yeah right. Who are you trying to fool, dude?"

"'m not trying to fool anyone." Sam leaned back in the seat as comfortable as he could get and closed his eyes.

"Damn it, Sam-"

"Can we just go and get to our next hunt?" interrupted Sam almost losing his temper.

Dean nodded even though Sam had his eyes still closed and muttered, "This isn't over yet."

"Was it afraid it wasn't", replied Sam under his breath while Dean turned the key in the ignition and pulled the black car back into the traffic.

* * *

Sam and Dean got to Richmond and checked out the ghost-janitor Bobby had told them about. It was as easy as they had hoped and how it seldom was.

They had entered out the old school building only to witness an accident at first sight. The teacher who had been the poor victim just got a sore behind as the ghost had pulled her chair away from underneath her when she was about to sit down. Dean had chuckled which had earned him a nudge with the elbow from Sam who could barely suppress a chuckle himself.

As promised, Bobby had sent the boys the information needed on the grave side so that they soon had been able to dig out his bones and salt and burn them.

A quick and smooth hunt the Winchester brothers had not had in what felt like ages.

Now they were back at the motel room they had rented for the night. Dean lay on his bed, stuffed M & M's into his mouth and watched TV. Sam sat at his laptop.

"Wasn't that a nice one?" questioned Dean crunching his candy.

"Yup."

"Wouldn't it be nice if it always was that easy?"

"Probably."

"Man, that would be awesome. No more banging up, throwing around, bruises, broken bones or stuff like that."

Sam looked up from his display. "Really?"

"Yeah. You think I like tending to your injuries?"

"My inju-?" Sam stopped short when he saw the broad grin on his brother's face, "Dude, you got more scars than a damn pro wrestler."

"But I'm not in scripted fights!" Dean smirked and flashed his teeth. Then he turned his attention back on the show.

Sam was very happy that this hunt had been so damn easy. Piece of cake. Pie if it was for Dean.

The younger man was not sure if he could have handled it if either of them would have been injured. And he did not know if he really had been a 100 % into it or if he could have backed up Dean if something had happened. But luckily for them both nothing bad had happened.

Sam was extremely happy for the distraction the ghost-hunting had provided and the time this hunt had taken his mind of the incident.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading. More to come soon.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I do not own "Supernatural" - just in case you or I forgot. :-)**

 **I'd like to thank all you guys out there who are reading, liking, reviewing and enjoying this story. I hope I won't disappoint with this chapter.**

* * *

It was a few weeks and some hunts later Sam and Dean found themselves in for the next job. This time some demon possession Sam had found out about on the internet. And again both hunters were lucky to find it an easy work. The demon who possessed a teenage girl seemed to be a rather dumb one. The Winchester brothers soon had it and its host trapped to exorcise it and send it back to rot hell. The girl was unharmed, just exhausted and enfeebled and scared to death. They brought her to the next hospital and took off immediately after she was admitted. Better to have no questions asked.

Dean sat on the edge of his motel bed and said, "Nice."

"What is?" Sam lay on his bed with his computer in front of him.

"We're havin' a run, Sammy. The last few hunts were really nice and easy."

"Yeah." Sam nodded and looked wearily at his brother.

"But I kinda miss the action, too. A little bit of both would be great." Dean mused.

"A punch in the jaw here, a kick in the ass there. Yeah, that'd be great", sneered Sam.

Sam's acting in front of Dean had improved since that fateful night. His overprotecting mother-hen but never admitting to it older brother finally had stopped handling him with kid gloves. Sam hoped his acting skills soon would turn into the real thing again so that he could really enjoyed the bantering. When his smile was not forced. When he did not have to pretend everything was just great and fine. When it really _was_ fine, when his smile _was_ for real. When he felt for real again.

Dean was glad they had some smooth hunts over the last weeks. It gave his little brother some time to come around again. It seemed that Sam finally got the headaches and his irritable mood under control. The vision-like symptoms had also lessened to a normal quota. The brothers got into little fights still, sure enough, but they felt like always, just normal. It was some bantering here, some fights there, some hunts and being on the road again. Everything just as usual.

Content, Dean lay down on his bed and stretch his back and sighed satisfied.

* * *

The first rays of light fell through the blinds of the window right onto Sam's face. Grimacing and turning his head away from the light, he woke up. He felt stiff, a little sore and in some pain. Still. He got up out of bed and padded over into the bathroom of their motel room. Quietly he slipped inside and rummaged through their med kit.

"Damn", he swore through clenched teeth when he found they had run out of pain killers again and other supplies as well. Agitated he rubbed his hands over his face and his hair. Breathing heavily he looked around in the room as if there were pain pills or gauze somewhere hidden in the bathroom.

Eventually, he decided he would get dressed to restock their supplies in the med kit and maybe get some extra stuff.

He got back into the room just to see Dean sprawled on the bed snoring softly. Sam quickly changed into some decent clothes. He poked in his duffle to grab some shirt when his hands felt plastic and a faint rustling was heard. Sam had completely forgotten about that plastic bag with the clothes he had worn during the incident and the gauze and things he had used to clean himself up with or treated himself with.

He felt his heart rate speed up, his breathing become more erratic, a big lump formed in his throat.

No, he did not have time for that. Not now! No! He needed to get some stuff from the drug store. That bag and its contents would have to wait until later.

Hurriedly, he left the motel room and jogged down the street to a small store he had seen the night before when they had come here to stop for the night. When he entered he had his body and mind somewhat under his control again.

Some time later Sam returned with the medical supplies and breakfast. Balancing everything in his hands he tried to open the motel door just the moment it was yanked open from the inside. The surprise caught him off guard and he almost dropped his goods.

"Sam!" Dean shouted relieved.

"Right here."

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Uh, isn't that kinda obvious?" Sam answered annoyed still trying his best to hold onto every bag, container, box and coffee cups. "Mind lend me hand?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

Confused Dean took some of the things and carried them inside with Sam following him. "Good, you brought a decent breakfast", Dean smiled happily while he shrugged out of his jacket and sat down to start eating. Sam went off to the bathroom.

"Where 're ya goin'? Breakfast is here!"

"Putting the med stuff away", answered Sam from within the bathroom.

"Med stuff!?" called Dean, then he said more quietly, "Again? Didn't we just stop for that like a week or two back?"

"Yup."

Dean startled. He had not expected Sam to hear him. But Sam had already stepped back into the motel room and sat down on a chair at the table with his older brother.

"Why again then?" Dean took a gulp from his coffee and looked at Sam.

"Well, a few things were missing."

"Oh." Dean chewed and with his full mouth he answered, "Good that you got them then." The older brother was befuddled that they had run out of supplies again so soon but he let it go. Instead, Dean grabbed for his breakfast and started eating no longer worrying about the medical supplies or that he had woken up worried sick that his brother was not asleep in his bed or typing away at his computer.

Sam was relieved the questioning was over. He thought that was how people felt being in the dock. He was glad that Dean stopped his one-hundred-question-game with him and instead stuffed hash browns into his mouth. Sam nipped at his drink and relished the warmth that spread in his body together with the sweet feeling of numbness. On his way back from the drug store he had already taken something for the pain. He did not want to worry Dean more than his brother already was. A worrying Dean was a dangerous thing for Sam.

At least in the current state.

Sam could not afford to let his guard down. Not with Dean around. Not now. Although it had been almost three weeks since... the incident Sam still felt extremely vulnerable and jumpy but Sam was sure that he was able to cover his hurt and humiliation better and better with each day and he gained more confidence. The concerned looks from his over-protective older brother had also lessened.

* * *

After finishing their breakfast the brothers had nothing better to do so they decided to take a look around the place they had gotten to. They had no job they had to get to and Dean did not feel like leaving already which was a very rare thing to happen.

So the two of them walked down the main road. Only few people were on the streets. It felt weird to both brothers acting so normal, doing such normal stuff like walking down the road with no need to do so, with no heavy thoughts about some supernatural evil bastard to hunt down. But both cherished those short-lived moments to the fullest.

"Daddy", a tiny whisper made Dean and Sam stop. A little girl with pigtails and her father had just stepped out of a shop when the girl's eyes had fallen on the brothers. She pointed her tiny hand at Sam and looked at her father. She spoke something intelligible for the Winchesters.

"Yes, darling, he's a very big boy." Her father answered and smiled down at the little girl.

Sam's face fell, all color drained from his face and he felt light-headed. His vision got blurry. His knees shook and his legs threatened to give out.

 _Big boy!_

It echoed in his mind.

 _Big boy!_

He felt a hand on his shoulder, another one was on his chest.

 _Big boy!_

He felt someone push his head down to his knees.

* * *

"Yes, darling, he's a very big boy."

When Dean heard the man talking to his daughter he raised a smile at them. True words! Sam was tall and big. The man nodded and turned to walk away with his child.

That was when Dean realized his brother had shut himself away.

"Sammy?" He approached him.

Sam did not seem to realize where he was or that Dean was standing in front of him.

"Sammy!" Dean's voice became more forceful.

To soothe his brother in his misery as well as to steady him as he seemed to collapse every second now, Dean laid a hand on Sam's shoulder as well as against his chest. His breaths came panting and shallowing and way too fast. To prevent his younger brother from hyperventilating he pushed his head down to his knees and spoke quietly to him. "Breath with me, Sammy. Just like this: In out in out. Good. That's good. That's it. Easy tiger."

Sam got his breathing steady again though his heart still pounded wildly in his chest.

 _Big boy!_

Those two words raced through his head. Just like-

'Don't go back there!' He told himself in his mind.

Slowly, Sam raised his head and met his brother's eyes which looked concerned at him. Sam forced a smile on his face and stuttered incoherently.

"Shh, relax", Dean told his brother and gently rubbed his back. He could not help but notice the slight flinch in Sam's muscles. "You okay, now?"

"Uh... Yeah yeah." Sam managed to say and stretched his back so he was standing to his full height again.

"Still looking a little pale, there. Wanna sit down?"

"No, 'm fine, Dean."

"And I'm flying", answered Dean.

"You never fl-"

"Dude, what the hell is goin on with you?"

"Nothing. I'm f-"

"Don't you dare saying 'fine'!" Dean hissed through clenched teeth. He got angry that Sam would always tell him off instead of admitting that he was anything but fine. Anger had taken over his worry. Even though his little brother was still a little out of it he Dean barely could control his temper.

Sam stepped back and hit the wall of the building behind him. He did not expect his brother to get furious like that. Sam answered Dean's previous question with a "N-nothing."

"Oh yeah?" Dean got closer and hit Sam with a finger at his chest. "So, this right here then is your way of showing you being 'fine', huh? Damn it Sam! I need you clear-headed and straight!"

"I am, Dean." Sam tried to defend himself.

"What are you, huh? What if something like that happened on a hunt? It could get me killed. Or you. Or the both of us! Damn it!"

"Maybe we should take this conversation off the street and get back to the motel...", suggested Sam quietly. There was no need that by passers heard them argue about hunts or killings.

And maybe Dean would forget about this happening or the argument. At least Sam hoped so.

Dean snorted angrily but stomped away in the direction of their motel room.

* * *

When they entered their motel room, Dean saw how his brother sank down wearily on the edge of his bed and hung his head. Dean actually wanted to keep the argument up with Sam. He still was mad as hell about Sam not telling him what was wrong. They could not afford to slip. Not in their line of work. It could get them killed!

"So? Gonna tell me _now_ what's wrong with you?" Dean stood in front of the door effectively blocking the way out. You never knew.

Sam looked up at Dean. "Nothing. I just had some vision or something."

"Really?" Dean asked unbelievingly.

"Uh, yeah."

"What about?"

"I... Uh... I..."

"Yeah, thought so. Stop bullshitting!" Dean looked daggers at Sam.

"I am not bullshitting!" Sam shouted now furious himself. He jumped up, only to sit down quickly again when hot pain shot through his head. Putting his head in his hands to support its weight he sighed tiredly.

Dean remained where he was but kept his eyes trained on his brother. After a few moments Sam straightened, got up and grabbed his laptop out of his bag.

"Whatcha doin'?" Dean asked. The fury still evident in his voice.

"Researching. We gotta get outta here", answered Sam in a hushed voice without looking at Dean. He walked back to his bed and sat down with his computer on his lap typing away at the keyboard.

Shaking his head Dean turned on the TV. While he looked at the TV screen without really seeing what show was airing he wondered about Sam. Time and again he would look over at his brother's bed only to see him staring intently at his computer.

Where the hell did Sam get his stubbornness and pretense from? It bothered Dean to no end that Sam would not let him in. And he hated that he himself could not get behind Sam's mask that he was sure his little brother had put on. When had he started to shut him out?

* * *

Dean watched his brother stifling a yawn. Shortly after Sam snored softly laying on his side, his computer screen illuminating his face. Dean smiled. His wrath had long since gone.

His tall brother looked so young and cute especially when he slept. Not that he would ever tell him that. 'God forbid!'

He stroked Sam's head and smiled lovingly at his brother. Sam had gotten better over the last days. The headaches and vision-like symptoms of uneasiness and exhaustion had lessened. Whatever it had been that had his brother so irritable and on edge, he either had dealt with it or had disappeared. Whatever it was, Dean was glad to have his little-pain-in-the-ass-brother back. Except for that episode today on the street with that little girl!

Dean stopped himself before he could get into that situation again. It would only serve his emotions to boil over again. And there was no need for that now. His brother slept so he had no one to fight with anyway.

He took the laptop to put it away on the table to prevent Sam from accidently laying on it destroying it or hurting himself or Sam pushing it of the bed. Dean set it on the table and started to close the browser windows so that he could turn it off.

Then his gaze fell on one particular website and his movements froze.

"What the-", he started to say as his mind took in the words his eyes had seen. He began to comprehend.

"Nonono", murmured Dean as he kept on reading. Every once in a while his gaze fell on his sleeping brother. "This... No friggin'... way this can't be..." Dean clicked and scrolled through the contents of the website. His eyes read the words but his mind seemed to be unable to make sense of the letters, the words, the sentences.

* * *

Sam slowly came to. He had fallen asleep, he realized. When his eyes finally were able to focus he found his brother. Dean sat at the table of the motel room with his computer.

With his computer!

Oh crap!

No! Crap did not even cut in the slightest. This was full-blown _shit!_

Carefully Sam sat up all the while observing his brother's actions. Dean's brows knitted. His mouth was set in a straight line. His jaws were tense. His hands were clenched into fists laying on the table. The knuckles were stark white. His eyes seemed to have darkened. His whole stance was dark, dangerous and at the same time pained.

Sam closed his eyes to get his emotions under control. There were just too many rolling around in his body. What was he supposed to feel? What was he supposed to do?

He knew that Dean knew!

Dean _knew_ what Sam had tried to hide for so long.

Sam opened his eyes again. He knew he would not be able to stand Dean's look at him. No matter how Dean would look at him he would feel the pity in his brother's eyes, the hurt about what had happened, the pain that Sam had not told him about it, the anger at those bastards who had done it, the fury about taking them down. But most of all, the rage at himself that he had been unable to protect his little brother.

How was he supposed to get away from Dean's look and all of his older brother's emotions? He had been able to shut him out for some weeks. Why not any longer? Sam was mad at himself for falling asleep over his laptop with those damn websites still open.

"Sammy." The soft, low and full with emotions saying of his nick name brought Sam back to reality and he looked at his brother who still sat at the table with the laptop open in front of him.

Dean did not need an answer for his next question. The way his brother sat on the edge of the bed, the way he looked at him, all the emotions that rolled off him in waves were enough to let Dean know the answer. That the website he had accidentally stumbled across was not just an accident but a way for Sam to cope.

Helplessly Dean gestured at the screen. And when he spoke his voice broke around the two words he said, "That true?"

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed! If you did (or if you didn't) let me know. Pretty please.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I do not own "Supernatural".**

 **I was overwhelmed with the response to the last chapter and I'd like to thank all of you who read it, who left a review or a message, who favorited or put this story on their alert list. I hope you enjoy the next chapter as well.**

* * *

Ashamed Sam looked at the floor between his feet. With all his might he hoped Dean would not catch up upon his emotions, but he was certain his act had shattered into thousands of little pieces. His big brother saw through him like looking through the windshield of his beloved Impala.

"What's true?" asked Sam innocently after he had tried to steel himself as well as possible against the look he would receive from Dean. He was not ready to admit anything. There was not anything to admit, now was there? At least that was what he told himself in his mind over and over again.

Dean's intense stare bore into Sam. The older brother did not want to hurt or break him any more than he assumed Sam already was.

"This!?" Dean turned the laptop screen towards his younger sibling.

"What about it?"

"You tell me!" demanded Dean.

"Dean, I don't get what you want from me."

Dean sighed heavily. "I want the truth. Why are you looking up websites like that?"

Now it was on Sam to sigh and find a quick explanation. "I did some research."

"What for?"

Sam tried to get angry even though he did not feel like it. But he needed to if he wanted to keep his pretense up in front of Dean. So far Dean maybe just had an assumption and maybe Sam could still downplay everything when he came up with a reasonable explanation.

Dean watched the younger man on the bed closely. He was not sure what to believe anymore. He saw Sam rose from the bed and something like rage crossed his features but that seemed so off. Something was not right with that rage.

"What the fuck is this, Dean? Are we playing twenty-questions without me knowing it?", yelled Sam trying his best to let the acted fury play out right, "What do you want? Huh? I thought I found us a new hunt and did some diggin' on the internet. Damn you!" The more he rambled on the more real his wrath became until he finally stormed angrily to the door of the motel room. He shot Dean a furious glare. Then the door slammed shut with a loud thud behind him.

Dean stared unbelievingly at the door. His mouth stood slightly ajar. He tried to get to terms with what just had happened. What hunt had Sam talked about? And why was he looking into websites that dealt with abuse? Sexual abuse to be more precise? What had that to do with a hunt? His brother had seemed withdrawn and hurt when he had still sat on the bed. And all of the sudden he went berserk. What was going on here?

Dean suddenly realized his open mouth and shut it audibly. He got up and started pacing the room. Was he wrong? And this really was just about a damn hunt? Maybe it really had nothing to do with Sam and the way he had acted the last few weeks? Maybe he really just had had some nasty headaches and visions and stuff? Frustrated, Dean rubbed his hands over his face and hair. With more force than necessary he closed the lid of the computer.

"Damn it!" he shouted.

* * *

After Sam had left the motel room more furious than he thought he could become the fury subsided very quickly. He felt drained and exhausted. This all started to catch up with him. And now Dean breathed down his neck as well. How was he supposed to come to terms with all this when so much was happening at the same time? Actually, he did not want to come to terms with anything.

He kept on walking aimlessly down the street. He just needed to get his head clear and walking had always a soothing effect on him when Dean was not around. Now Dean was around but Sam did not want him around.

"There is nothing you need Dean for right now! There is nothing you need comfort for! Nothing ever happened! Get your mind wrapped around that, Sam!" The muscles in his jaw tightened as he spoke those words to himself. His hands were balled up to fist so hard his knuckles turned white. His feet stomped harder on the pavement than needed. But Sam had to get the tension and emotions out of his system.

After a while he found himself sitting in a small diner nursing a cup of coffee in his hands. He stared into the black brew without seeing anything. Sam did not feel like drinking it and it probably had turned cold by now. But the cup occupied his hands and it felt good to stare into it and having his hands to do something besides clenching into fists.

"Hey honey."

Sam startled.

he waitress had caught him unawares. He turned big surprised eyes on her.

"Oh, I m sorry, my big boy", she said apologetically in a sweet voice. She wanted to continue but she frowned when she saw the young man before her gasp for air. His hands let go of the cup with the cold coffee and it toppled over spilling the drink over the table onto his lap and the floor.

She thought his eyes could not get any rounder and bigger but she had been wrong. Open-mouthed he looked at her. She could sworn she had never seen a more haunted look. She blinked her eyes and it had vanished. The young man looked down onto his wet pants. Then, using the table he pushed himself up and passed her. In his pocket he fished for some notes which he left on the table. He mumbled something, which the waitress thought to be "Sorry".

The little ping from the doorbell above the entrance made her realized he had left. Coming out of her stupor she went to get something to clean up the little mess. She sighed as she bent down and thought that she just had wanted to ask him if he wanted some fresh coffee.

* * *

Sam retreated as fast as he could from the diner. God! This damn two words!

 _Big boy!_

Again the phrase ran through his head and he could not do anything about it. It taunted him.

He felt embarrassed for so many reasons.

He had tipped over that damn cup and left a mess at the table and all around it. And on his pants as well. But he did not care that he looked as if he had just wet himself. Well, that was a lie! And that poor waitress now had to clean up after him beause she had startled him with her words. At least he had left ten bucks on the table even though he just had some coffee which he had not even drunk. Maybe that would make it up to her.

 _Big boy!_

Sam did not feel the wetness on his cheeks as he stumbled out into the streets.

* * *

After about half an hour of wearing out the dirty carpet in their motel room Dean stopped his walking and tried to still his thinking. That came to nothing, anyway. He would not find out what was going without his brother talking to him. But his brother was not here!

After two more hours without his little brother coming back Dean got worried.

Sam could be bitchy sometimes, alright. And he sometimes needed time alone to think, alright, too.

But he had left the room almost three hours ago.

Dean got his cell phone and speed dialed his brother's number. He heard some vibrations from near the bed only to see Sam's phone lying on the nightstand. Sighing he put his phone back into his pocket and the vibrations stopped. He was angry and annoyed that Sam had left his mobile phone.

After another hour without Sam returning Dean decided to go searching.

Where would his brother go?

He walked down the streets, checked the library - without success, some small shops - without success and on the streets - he had no success either.

His stomach growled and he decided to stop into a little diner. Dean stepped to the counter and took a look around. A waitress was about to wipe the bench to his left.

"I'll be right there with you, honey", she smiled at him.

"No need to rush", answered Dean and watched her mop the seats and the floor. "Someone couldn't hold his food in?", he asked after a moment.

"Oh no", she said with a sad smile on her face, "Just a poor guy who spilled his coffee when he took off just about when I asked the big boy if he needed anything else."

Dean just nodded in acknowledgement.

Soon she finished and she stepped behind the counter and looked expectantly at him. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Wait. What did you just say?" The waitress words from before had sunken in.

"That the man took off and spilled his coffee?", she answered looking confused.

"No, no. What did you just call that dude?"

"Uh... You mean... Big boy!?"

"Where did he go? Did you see?"

"I... I think... he turned to the right." With a still perplexed face the waitress watched the man whirl around in his seat and hurry out of the diner.

"Thanks!" he called as the door closed behind him.

Shaking her head she spoke to herself, "What is it with these young men these days?"

* * *

Once Dean stepped outside he took a look around. It could not be too long since Sam had left the diner. He was very sure it had been Sam who tipped the coffee cup. Who else would be called 'big boy'? And as the waitress had still cleaned up when Dean had entered it was pretty obvious that this incident had just occurred. Meaning Sam could not have gotten too far away.

Neither to the left nor to the right nor anywhere else did Dean see any sign of his younger brother. So he decided to stick to the waitress' words and took off to the right. But it seemed as if Sam had just disappeared or vanished into thin air.

A vibration in his pocket and some rock music made Dean turn his attention away from the streets. He snatched the phone from his pocket.

"Yes!" He snarled.

"Hey, where you at?"

"Sam?" Dean stopped dead in his tracks.

"Yeah", replied Sam slowly as if to imply 'Who else?'. He heard Dean exhale. "Where you at?" Sam asked again.

"What do you mean? 'Where am _I_ at?' Where the hell are _you_ at?" Dean barely could suppress his temper.

"I just got back to the motel and you weren't here but the Impala was. So I figured you couldn't have gone too far. Should I come pick you up? Wherever you are?" Sam's voice sounded as normal as could be. To Dean it was almost _too_ normal.

Dean breathed loudly to calm down. He did not want to fight over the phone. "Don't you touch my baby!"

Sam was glad Dean could not see him as he flinched at his roar.

Dean continued, "I'll be back in ten minutes." With that he ended the call.

While Sam sank down on the bed trying to pull himself together again Dean stormed off back to the motel room.

No way could this go on like it was. Whatever was going on? It needed to stop!

* * *

When Dean entered the room Sam jumped up from the bed. Very calm but tense Dean closed the door, shrugged out off his jacket which he put over the back of the chair he chose to sit on. As soon as Dean took his seat Sam sank back down on the edge of his bed as well.

Both brothers eyed each other. Neither was sure how to proceed.

"So?" Dean finally said.

"Sorry I left my phone", said Sam.

"Yeah, wasn't that smart of a move." Dean looked at Sam who looked at Dean.

"Gonna tell me about this... _hunt_?" Dean questioned after a short moment of silence stretching the word 'hunt' extremely.

"Turned out to be nothin'."

Dean said nothing but his eyes tried to encourage Sam to continue.

"Well, I read about some... uh..." Sam harrumphed, "rapes..." Sam cleared his throat again, "which seemed strange at first. But I'm pretty sure it nothing supernatural behind that. I just sought out some information on the internet." Sam felt a little proud of himself that he made up this lie and told it to his brother in a steady, normal tone.

Dean nodded and smiled abashed. "I already thought... ya know... well...", he chuckled sheepishly and stopped.

"What? You thought, me... That I...?" Sam tried to stare as incredulously as he could bring himself to. Then he mustered a smile on his face and scoffed, "That's almost... hilarious." Inwardly he shuddered. But he hoped fervently that Dean would fall for his lie.

When his older brother just sat in his chair saying nothing but only looking at him Sam began to think he failed. His façade was about to crumble. Then Dean spoke up, "Yeah, it is."

Grinning Dean got up and said, "Let's go get something to eat before I starve!"

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. If you did please let me know. And if you didn't - well, I hope that doesn't apply. :-)  
**

 **Please review! Thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I do not own "Supernatural".**

 **I know it sounds lame but I really appreciate your support, your reviews, you reading this... After all it still is a very difficult and sensitive topic. And I hope indeed I do not offend anyone with it.**

 **Well, here it goes...**

* * *

The Winchester brothers strolled down the street. All the while Dean watched his brother. No way was he alright. Never ever. He'd rather start believe in the Easter Bunny or Santa Clause. Sam tried his best to hide his fears and worries, Dean gave him credit for that. But Sam seemed to forget that this was Dean they were talking about! His awesome big brother!

Dean was concerned for Sam. But the younger man effectively shut him out. What was he supposed to do to get him to talk? To open up to him? Alright, chick-flick-moments were not made for a Dean Winchester but - damn it - if Sam's or his own or their both wellbeings wer endangered then Dean would go for it. And right now, Sam was not fine at all. He had not been for weeks!

Sam was unaware of Dean's glances and thoughts. He was too captivated in his own mind to register anything going on around him. His thoughts swirled around. For one, he was relieved Dean had not inquired any further but just stopped where he had back in the motel room; for two, Sam had to come up with a new way to cope with his feelings and anxieties, those websites he had found were no longer an option, Dean knew about them now, no way would he let him get caught on that again; for three, Sam needed to forget, forget everything that had happened in that fateful night; but most of all he never wanted Dean to know about it.

Unwittingly as he still was deep in thought, Sam entered the diner behind Dean. When he took a seat and stared at the menu the younger Winchester first took in his surroundings. He could not avoid a sharp intake of breath when he realized it was the same diner he had fled not two hours earlier. Sam tried to calm himself and swallowed around the lump in his throat.

Dean observed Sam's reaction. He was more certain than ever that his little brother lied like a damn politician during election. "How do I help him when he doesn't talk to me?", Dean thought bitterly but he tried to shield his own emotions from Sam and plastered his famous grin on his face when the waitress approached their table.

"Hey, you boys are back", she smiled when she recognized their faces.

Sam looked at her but downcasted his eyes immediately when he recognized her as well. He felt embarrassed because of his visit from before.

"Yup." Dean grinned before he began to sing, "The boys are back in town. The boys are back in town."

The waitress chuckled. Then her gentle eyes scanned the brothers and stopped when she saw Sam who was way too absorbed in the menu. "Hey, you okay?" She asked softly.

Sam looked up at her. His eyes seemed haunted and hollowed. His face was pale. And both the waitress and Dean could have sworn they saw his hands tremble. But his voice was as steady as could be when he answered, "I'm fine. Sorry 'bout earlier. I didn't mean to make a mess."

Inwardly, Dean scoffed and thought, "I'm fine. Don't make me laugh, Sammy. I'm fine - the code for nothing's fine."

The waitress, however, did not seem to catch up on that. Instead she answered, "Oh, don't you worry about that. I had worse than spilled coffee. And you left a very generous tip." She smirked softly.

Sam smiled though it never reached his eyes.

"So, what can I get you then?"

* * *

When Dean and Sam had finished their meals the waitress stopped at their table asking if she could get them anything else.

"No thanks. There's no more space left in me that could be filled with food", replied Dean and got up. Sam stood, too.

The waitress looked up at the tall men next to her. "My my, you sure a big boys." Grinning she shook her head and began cleaning the table.

Sam's eyes widened and for a moment he felt the world spinning too fast around him. He regained his footing quickly and pretended nothing had happened.

Despite Sam's wishes, Dean had seen his brother's slip and Dean was not about to leave it alone this time. As soon as they were back in the motel he would do whatever it took to get the truth out of Sam. His worry, his annoyance, his frustration, his hurt only fueled his need to get to the bottom of this this.

* * *

Dean shut the motel door behind them with a loud bang. He knew that he would hurt Sam with that but Dean was at a point where he would do whatever it took to break Sam's barriers.

As assumed, Sam startled and jumped. He turned around to face Dean and started to talk, "What the-"

He stopped his speech instantly as he took in his older brother s stance. Dean's face seemed dark with anger, his eyes flashed dangerously, he leaned against the door with his arms crossed above his chest. Even from where he stood, Sam could see the muscles in Dean's jaw work.

So far Sam never had been on the receiving end of _this_ Dean. And he never thought that he ever would be. He was afraid and felt threatened. He swallowed hard trying to get enough air in his body, trying to loosen the knots in his stomach.

Sam did not know what to say, so he carefully spoke his brother's name in a low tone, "Dean?"

"So, _big boy_ , what's up?" Dean felt horrible for doing this to his brother, adding to Sam's hurt.

Dean's words felt like venom to Sam. His frightened eyes stared at the older man.

"Wh-what?" He stammered in a too high-pitched voice.

"You heard me. _Big boy_." God, how he hated himself for inflicting more pain on Sammy!

Sam felt light-headed and his legs threatened to give out under him. But he could not allow himself any weakness now. What was going on here? Was Dean possessed?

"Christo!?" Sam was unsure what to make of all this and even as he spoke the word he knew nothing would happen. It was just his brother standing in the door spitting those evil words at him, making him hurt. His body shook with overwhelming emotions. Tears burned in his eyes though he tried his best to keep them under control.

"I'm not possessed", Dean answered calmly.

Sam sank down into a chair. His emotions finally caught up with him so that he felt too weak to remain standing. His cheeks were wet with tears.

Dean saw his brother raw with emotions slouched down in the chair. His head was low on his chest. His little brother was defeated, all defenses down, nothing there to protect him. He did not seem like that 6'' 4' guy that knew very well how to take of himself rather like a small heap that wanted to disappear into nothingness. Dean's heart ached for him.

But he still was not sure if Sam would talk by now.

"Talk to me." Dean's voice was quiet.

Sam hiccupped.

Dean stepped away from the door and let his arms sink to his side showing his brother that he was not a threat, that he was not the enemy. That he was here to help. To comfort. To be whatever Sam needed him to be.

Sam looked up.

Dean almost stepped back into the door. Sam's face displayed so many emotions Dean had never thought someone would be able to. But Dean stood his ground. This time he did not want to put more burden on Sam's shoulders than there were already.

"Dean", Sam stammered, "Dean..." More tears ran down the young man's face and he let his head sink.

In an instant, Dean was in front of his brother, crouching down. Dean was not sure if he should embrace his brother. But Sam took that decision away from him when he put his arms around Dean's waist burying his head into Dean's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry." Dean spoke softly while he gently stroked Sam's back and tucked Sam's head under his chin.

* * *

 **A/N: Good? Bad? What do you think? I hope you kind of enjoyed. :-)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I do not own "Supernatural".**

 **I want to warn that this chapter may contain triggering or offending content. It won't be graphic though.**

 **If you find the time I would be pleased to know if and/or how you liked it.  
**

* * *

Dean did not know what he was more sorry for: His asshole-behavior towards his little brother, Sam's breakdown because of his asshole-behavior or that this had to happen at all because of a damn incident. The older brother still held on to Sam even though his own position was rather uncomfortable. But he could not care less. Sam was priority number one. He would hold him forever if the need occurred.

Sam heard the soothing voice of his brother which enveloped all of him. He did not care for the words, alone the voice was enough to comfort his strained nerves. Through the shirt and jacket he felt Dean's body heat as well as the gentle touch on his back which also calmed Sam somewhat. Sam sniffed trying to get his emotions back under control. The leather of the jacket smelled of his brother. The younger man clung to the older like an anchor to the seabed. Sam hated himself for feeling so weak but at the same time he was relieved to have Dean at his side who would not let go.

Dean felt the tremors racing his brother's body, he felt the uneven breathing through the silent sobs, he felt his shirt getting wet with Sam's tears. _Once he put his hands on those bastards..._ He did not dare finishing his thought.

Tentatively, Sam loosened the embrace. He was unsure if he wanted to let go of Dean, another part of him felt crowded and hassled. Sam's rational part knew it was his brother holding him but his emotions and his memories did not.

Dean felt Sam's arms snaking their way back to the front and he mirrored the action by slowly pulling his arms away.

Sam suddenly stood up. His hands were shaking when he dry-washed his face and brushed them through his hair.

The older man had to restrain himself from grabbing him and shaking him until he finally spilled his sorrow, his agony. So, Dean remained in his place next to the vacated chair and just looked at his distraught little brother.

To Dean it seemed as if Sam tried several times to start talking but before a sound emerged from his mouth, Sam stopped. Again and again, Sam opened his mouth trying to find the words but he did not know how to say them.

"I'm sorry, Sammy", Dean said in very quiet voice.

Sam turned around and stared with unbelieving eyes. Dean slowly stood and sat on his bed. Sam followed his movements with his eyes.

"What for?" Sam asked finally. Not completely trusting his voice, Sam's question was nothing more than a tiny whisper.

"For this, for being an ass." He gestured helplessly around.

"Jerk", Sam corrected with a thin smile.

"Bitch." Dean returned the smile.

A moment of silence ensued.

Sam sank down on his edge and leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling in between. He stared at the floor avoiding any eye contact with his older brother. Dean did nothing to push Sam. That part was over. He knew Sam would talk. He just needed some space to do so.

Finally, Sam spoke up. Not once during the rambling did he look up. His tone was low. His voice was even and steady when he relayed the events as if he were talking about someone else.

Dean did not interrupt but let his little brother talk. He noticed the tiny shakes of Sam's hands but those did not mirror in his voice which was controlled and emotionless. Dean had to bite his tongue. More than once, he wanted to punch out the lights of those bastards, kill them for what they had done, sent them to hell to have them rot and burn there. But he kept his own emotions in check.

Eventually, Sam ended his talk. Actually, he did not remember how much and in which detail he put it but he was spent. It took all of him to not just slump down and pass out.

"Sammy."

Slowly, the younger one raised his head to look at Dean. He was afraid of what he might find. Shame? Anger? Embarrassment? Hate? Disappointment? Sam could not make it out. For once he could not read his older brother.

"Who?" Dean asked quietly. He needed to know who had inflicted so much pain on his brother, who had broken him, who had taken away _his Sammy_. The anger bubbled just below the surface and he wanted the right people to be on the receiving end.

Sam shook his head.

"Tell me", Dean urged,"Please."

He only received another denying shake of Sam's head.

"Why won't you tell me? Why wouldn't you tell me at all? It ate you up! And you-" Dean caught himself. His voice had gotten louder with each word.

 _This is Sam! Not those bastards!_ Sam did not need any reprimands. Dean's realization just came a little too late when he saw Sam turn away.

"Sam, Sammy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. I-"

"No, Dean, I understand." The strangled voice of Sam tore at Dean's heart. He wanted so badly to take away all the hurt and pain from his brother. He had failed to protect him. Miserably. How was he supposed to make this right?

When he heard the rustling of a bag being slung over a shoulder, Dean snapped out of his thoughts.

"Sam? What are you doing?" Dean stared at his brother who stopped his walk to the door with his pack on his shoulders.

"I'll go", answered Sam without turning around.

"What?" Dean's voice was a few pitches too high.

"I'll leave. What's not to understand about it?"

"No! No way! Sammy, what's..." Dean jumped to his feet, covered the short distance between his last position and his brother to whirl him around.

The sight of his broken brother looking at him with a tear-streaked face, slumped shoulders, defeated, brought a too big lump to Dean's throat.

"Sammy", he said desperately.

"I won't be the stupid, embarrassing, weak little brother. Lemme go!" Sam choked out.

Due to his shock at Sam's words Dean almost did as Sam had asked him to. But he caught himself and held onto his brother. This was way worse than Dean thought it was if Sam really thought his words were true.

Sam watched his brother's struggle on emotions. He was ashamed. How could he have been so damn stupid that he really had thought it might be right to tell Dean what happened? He should have known better. Dean would not want him around anymore. How could he? And who could blame him? If Sam would not have had to hang out with himself he would have run as far as possible. He was -

Dean's trembling, low timbre disturbed Sam's troubled mind. "Oh my! Sammy!"

Sam felt Dean pulling him closer until his big brother had his arms wrapped tightly around him. Then he heard the muffled words, "Sammy, whatever you think I'm thinking, it's wrong. I... I..." Dean searched for words as well as for control on his voice, "I'm not angry. Well, hell, yes I am", Dean felt the tension in his brother rising a notch, "but I'm not angry at you. I'm not thinking you're pathetic nor do I feel ashamed because of you. And you're anything but weak! Do you hear me?"

Was Sam hearing correctly? Dean did not hate him? Dean was not mad at him? He was not thinking he was a weak pathetic coward? He must be mistaken.

Dean continued, "I don't know why you didn't tell me earlier but I'm sure you had your reasons."

So Dean was disappointed - at least for Sam not confiding in him.

"I don't how to fix this but I'll do anything I can to help you. I'm with you! All the way!"

"You sure?" Sam asked in a small voice.

"Hell yes I am!" Dean exclaimed.

Sam nodded ever so slightly. He still could not quite believe what he just had heard.

Carefully, Dean slid the straps from Sam's backpack from his arms to put it on the floor. Then he led his brother back to his bed where he gently pushed him down.

"Sammy, none of that was your fault. Don't you ever think that!" Dean spoke while he sat on the floor in front of his little brother. For the first time in years, Sam really seemed little the way he sat sunk down on the edge. "And don't you ever think that I think any less of you!" Dean used soft force to make his brother look at him before he emphasized, _"I don't!"_

Sam's mouth twitched and Dean thought, he could make out a smile.

The troubled young man laid back on the bed sensing he had not enough strength left to remain seated. His head had just hit the bed when exhaustion pulled him into deep sleep.

* * *

Sam woke to the smell of coffee and breakfast. Wondering how long he had been asleep he sat up on the bed. Dean sipped on his hot brew sitting at the table.

"Good morning", he greeted cheerfully raising his paper mug.

"Hi." Sam was in no mood for this. The memories of the previous night had just come back to his mind and even though he understood what Dean was trying to do Sam was not up to this, yet. He shuffled into the small bathroom to get himself as clean as he could get.

Fifteen minutes later Sam reappeared, freshly showered, shaved, and in clean clothes his hair still wet. Maybe now, he was ready to face this day - and Dean.

Dean handed him his coffee. "Here. It's still hot."

Sam nodded in thanks and sat down as well.

Dean ate his breakfast in silence, only casting looks every now and then at his brother. Sam was not hungry but for Dean's sake he would take a bite. Both brothers knew full well what was going to happen next: Dean would try to get more answers out of Sam and his ordeal.

Sam was not disappointed with the questioning even though he had hoped it was later than sooner.

"Who?" Dean asked without looking up from the table where he pushed together the wrapping papers.

"Dunno."

Dean decided to let that slip for now and queried, "When? Where?"

"That town before Richmond where we took down the janitor."

Dean tried to remember but he could not make it out.

"The party", Sam added.

"Oh! Oh, yeah, I remember that incredible party. You left." Dean looked up. "You left." He repeated when realization dawned on him that it was that night when he had that much fun at the party, when he had failed his baby brother, when he was not there to protect him.

Sam just looked ahead and nodded almost imperceptibly.

The older brother felt his anger coming up again. It was directed at those bastards as well as on himself.

"Who?"

"Dunno."

Dean's fury was back full force. Through clenched teeth he hissed, "Tell me, who. Sammy, I need to know!"

"Damn it, Dean. I don't know. They could run me over and I wouldn't even know!" Sam shouted back.

Dean's mouth dropped open. Not knowing what to say he closed it audibly.

Sam sighed raggedly and said quietly, "I don't remember too much. Huh? I was too freaked out. So... I don't remember how many there were or what they looked like or if they called each other names."

"But-", Dean started.

"What?"

"But there's gotta be something we can do."

"Yeah? Like what?"

Dean hated that defeated tone in Sam's voice.

"What do you think we can do?" Sam asked, "I don't remember their names, their looks, how many there were, there's nothin'." Sam turned hard eyes on Dean.

"Sam-"Dean could not even finish his nickname for his younger brother.

"No, Dean. There. Is. Absolutely. Nothing." Sam repeated stressing the words.

Dean felt the need to do something, to have someone pay for Sam's agony. But how was he to accomplish that task if there was just no one because Sam could not remember anything useful to identify those bastards?

Once Sam sensed his brother's feelings, he said, "I know the hatred, the anger, the fury you feel. And trust me, I'd rather see these men get the punishment they deserve." Sam sighed heavily and put his head in his hands.

"What is it Sammy?"

"I hate this, Dean, I hate this." One moment Sam seemed so controlled, the next he sniveled while trying to get himself together. "I don't know who to throw my anger at, who to hit for what they did, who to hunt down and punish. I can't remember them. Dean, I... can't remember any of these men... Who am I angry with now? Who can I blame for this? All I have is me..."

"No, Sammy", Dean said in a firm voice. "I'll repeat myself as long as I have to until you believe me. You didn't do anything wrong. This is not your fault. Don't you blame yourself for that." Dean took Sam's hands in his so Sam raised his eyes to look into his brother's eyes. "I'm with you. Every single step of the way. Do you get that?"

Sam nodded.

"Good." Then a thought crossed the older man's mind that made him nearly gasp for air. "Sammy, what about all them medical supplies we needed to restock so often? Is there anything I should know about? Are you... I mean... Is there..."

"No. There's no more physical damage." Sam helped his brother out.

"But the painkillers?" Dean pressed on.

Sam cast his eyes away.

"Please, look at me Sammy", Dean ordered softly, "Are you hooked?"

"I don't know. Sometimes, I just think I need them. So I take 'em."

"Alright, we get you through this. Together." Dean tried a smile to show his brother again that he was at his side.

* * *

Some time later had the brothers sitting in the Impala driving down some back road in the middle of nowhere again. Sam stared out the window not seeing the landscape while Dean hummed softly to the tune of the radio. He would try to make Sam his Sammy again. He felt horrible for letting him down in the first place and for all the pain Sam had suffered and still would suffer through. But this time he would be with him.

"Dean, stop the car."

Dean startled and pulled the car over to the side of the road where he cut off the engine. He turned a questioning look at Sam expecting him to be sick.

Instead Sam said, "I need to do something."

"What?" Dean frowned but followed his brother who had gotten out of the car. He watched Sam silently. Whatever it was, he was doing.

Sam walked around to the trunk from which he lifted a shovel. He started digging a small hole in the soil next to the street. Then Sam retrieved his duffle. From deep inside he pulled out a plastic bag. He emptied its contents into the hole.

Finally, Dean understood what Sam was doing and stood beside him with salt and lighter fluid which the brothers poured over the contents in the hole. Dean handed a matchbook to Sam who took it gratefully. He lit the complete matchbook holding it a moment before throwing it down.

Immediately the hole caught fire.

Sam stared fascinated into it. An almost satisfied smile slid across his features.

Dean rather observed his brother than the fire. Sam seemed to relax with every bit the fire consumed.

When Dean looked into the fire after a while the destroyed, bloodied clothes and medical supplies Sam had stuffed in that plastic bag were nothing more than black pieces.

Dean knew, rationally looked at, they just wasted salt, lighter fluid and time for some clothes which would not have needed this treatment at all - they did not belong to a ghost or demon. But emotionally, Sam needed some kind of closure. And if this ritual which normally would get them rid of ghosts and demons helped then so be it.

Sam looked contently when the fire finally went down and only a glow was left. The younger man picked up the shovel and put the dirt back to cover the ashes and fill up the hole. He looked up when Dean put the grass sod back in place.

"Thanks", whispered Sam when they were back in the car.

Dean started his Impala. He knew it was a ways to go but he was sure Sam would be okay. _He_ would be okay.

Even if neither could get the revenge they sought.

The End...

* * *

 **A/N: So, here it is. The end of this story. I made it. So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, this story.  
**

 **Thanks for all the reviews, the follows, the favs, to all you readers. It really means a lot.**

 **Biensche**


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